


Sentiment is for the Brave

by King_In_Exile



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassian Anatomy, Cardassian Culture, Daddy Issues, Family, First Kiss, First Time, Intersex, Lonely Elim Garak, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_In_Exile/pseuds/King_In_Exile
Summary: Julian Bashir stops ignoring his attraction to Elim Garak and decides to take the initiative. For many personal reasons (and secrets), they try to keep romantic sentiment out of their 'friends with benefits' arrangement--and fail miserably at it. Then the unexpected comes knocking on their door and neither of them is really emotionally prepared.[Starts towards the end of season 4](I'm not doing any smut, sorry.)(I'm kind of making this up as I go along and expect it to be quite long, so I will update with more tags later.)
Relationships: Elim Garak & Tora Ziyal, Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Sentiment is for the Brave

“I can’t believe you consider _that_ a bedtime story,” Julian said and aggressively cut at his Zabu meat.

Garak took a slow sip of his red leaf tea and then gently set the cup down by his soup bowl. “It is imperative for children to understand what is at stake.”

“It’s encouraging a child to be complicit in murder and reveal their family’s indiscretions for the sake of the state.” Julian took a large bite and quickly chewed. He glanced around the Replimat—only a Bolian in a toupee and an elderly Bajoran couple. Their lunch discussion had been delayed today by a medical emergency and a good thing too; he didn’t need Odo receiving another complaint about conversations that were ‘offensive to public ears.’ Julian focused back on the Cardassian tale, _The Garden of Orchids_. “I _thought_ family is everything.”

“Family _is_ everything.” Garak said. He paused, eyes roaming in thought, and Julian’s augmented mind caught a pained micro-expression flash in and out of existence. “Could you not tell how _proud_ his father was that he was willing to make such sacrifices.”

“You’re honestly telling me you’d read this story—with descriptions of torture—to a four-year-old?!” said Julian, putting a bit more shock into his tone than necessary.

“Hansel and Gretel cook an old woman in an oven. Isn’t that a bit grisly for children?” Garak responded.

“I’ll admit it’s a bit excessive…. But it was an act of self-defense!”

“So, in effect, you do agree with—” Garak stopped mid-sentence and refocused his eyes to a point beyond his lunch companion’s left shoulder. His wayward gaze landed on Dukat’s half-Bajoran daughter, busy perusing jewelry at a kiosk.

Julian chewed on his tongue. _T_ _o-ra Zi-yal._ Never had four syllables so easily rankled his spirit and set his teeth on edge. 

“Garak,” Julian said warningly, hitting hard the _K_ , watching him watch _her_ just like at the Springball match the other day. The skin at his cuffs and collar began to itch. She glanced towards them, acknowledging the doctor and tailor with a curt nod and a coy smile, respectively, and then floated out of sight around the bend.

“Hmm? Ah, yes. As I was saying, you must then agree with—”

“Don’t approach her again." 

“Would you really condemn such a lovely young lady to loneliness because of their parentage?” Garak asked. “And wouldn’t it just, as you might say, ruffle Dukat’s feathers?”

“I’d be more worried about Kira if I were you.” Julian made a quick check of the nearby area as if the major would magically appear when mentioned. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, my dear Doctor, but I don’t have that many choices in the way of friends on this station.”

 _Friends_. Such a restrictive word. Julian puffed out one cheek and glared at his meal.

For years, he’d been convinced Garak’s playful flirting was meaningless, another game, something the exiled ex-spy did to pass the time and keep his skills sharp. But after the Obsidian Order and Tal Shiar’s failed mission into the Gamma Quadrant, the tone of the flirting had changed into something more subtle, more desperate, something quite a bit more than _plain_ and _simple_.

During the Spy Program fiasco, he'd had a sudden, brief urge to grab the frustratingly attractive Cardassian by the lapels and smash their faces together. But he’d resisted. Everything had to stay north of the platonic line for many reasons: integrity of his Starfleet career, cultural incompatibility, potentiality of ruining a friendship, Garak’s dubious morals, and all the damn secrets—especially _that_ secret.

Still, it didn’t stop him from enjoying the game and shamelessly basking in the attention. Then the spotlight had started to dim when Kira brought Ziyal onto the station. He knew he was being childishly selfish. Garak had been exiled from his homeland for over five years; who could begrudge him for wanting a Cardassian _friend?_

Julian began to stab haphazardly at his peas.

“Uh, Doctor. What are you doing?”

“Eating.”

“Impaling small spherical pods with tines doesn’t seem an effective technique.”

“It works fine for me,” Julian said defensively.

“Would not a spoon be more appropriate? Or scoop them into the mash-whatever.”

“These are my peas, on my plate, and I will eat them however I see fit,” Julian stated. He never mixed his food. Never. The mashed potatoes, Zabu steak, and peas had to stay strictly in their designated zones. ~~~~

“Curious eating behavior. Perhaps, it reflects a frustrating desire to conform circumstances to one's expectations.” Julian attacked another pea, and it flew in a small arch and landed on Garak’s artfully folded napkin. “Fruitlessly, of course.”

“Should Dukat have killed her?” Julian blurted, desperate to put into stark contrast their cultural differences and moral incompatibilities. He regretted the tone of the question immediately, but having already put his foot in his mouth, he pushed forward. “As a good _Cardassian_ citizen, should he have killed her?”

“Dukat is hardly an example of a good citizen,” said Garak, deftly avoiding the question.

“Too much selfishness not enough patriotism.”

“Among other things.” Garak said, pausing to take a spoonful of his soup before continuing. “Good citizens would respect and honor the partner and children they already have.”

Julian involuntarily flashed a boyish smile. “Who knew you were a romantic at heart.”

“Romance has nothing to do with it. As we’ve already established, _Family_ is the fundamental foundation of my society. _The Never Ending Sacrifice_ is a prime example of that. Those who cannot show loyalty to their family, well, how can we expect them to show loyalty to the state.”

“And family that fails to show loyalty to the state is simply no family at all?”

“Let it be pointed out, Ziyal was every bit the dutiful daughter. She knew exactly what was at stake and presented herself for execution.” Julian wasn’t sure if Ziyal had volunteered such details or if Garak had illegally accessed the Major’s mission report. “Dukat, however, failed to follow through. His demotion is exactly what he deserves for his blatant indiscretion.”

“Almost sounds better to be an orphan than illegitimate. You might live longer.”

Garak soundlessly set his spoon down and fidgeted with his napkin, refolding it a couple times. “I hear congratulations are in order. Your paper on Krelinax therapy for oxygen-sensitive species has been published in Starfleet Medical’s Annual.”

Julian wondered what part of his statement had struck a chord and, having the social awareness of a distracted seven-year-old, didn’t quite know when to let a subject drop.

“If it had been your child—”

“Doctor, really," Garak said, sitting up straighter and pushing his tray away.

“Just answer the question. Would you have taken the shot?”

“This is hypothetical and—”

“Would you have? If it was your own child," Julian pressed on, “for the sake of the family or the state or whatever, would you ki—”

“No,” came Garak’s unexpected answer. Mild shock flickered across his gray features as he sucked in a tight breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said curtly and stood up. “I just remembered I have a customer coming in for a fitting in a few minutes.” And without his customary bow, he hurried off to his shop.

Julian rested his chin in his hands and stared at the empty seat across from him. “You were supposed to say ‘yes’ or nothing at all or some clever, long lie, you bloody bastard,” he mumbled to himself and started stabbing at his peas again, trying to quash his nebulous feelings for the enigmatic tailor.

**Author's Note:**

> I've read so many DS9 fanfictions and lists of prompts that I'm unsure where some of my ideas have come from or what I've borrowed from. If you see something you recognize, please let me know, and I will give credit where credit is due.
> 
> I would definitely like to thank tinsnip for the Cardassian anatomy, and tinsnip and Vyc for the Kardasi language. And many thanks to the awesome Discord community!


End file.
